


Anal Retentive

by cybel



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Established Relationship, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-22
Updated: 2011-03-22
Packaged: 2017-10-17 05:04:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/173194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cybel/pseuds/cybel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim is trying to concentrate on his newspaper, but Blair is determined to get his attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anal Retentive

**Author's Note:**

> Written in winter 1996 and originally archived at 852 Prospect on 11/01/96. Re-edited for posting to the AO3 in March 2011.

Jim was trying to read the evening paper while Blair puttered around in the kitchen, but his focus stank tonight. They had just had another row over Jim's 'anal retentive' - according to Blair - house rules, and now Blair was doing his best to annoy him.

Well, it wasn't going to work. Jim kept his eyes firmly fixed on the front page as Blair rummaged through the refrigerator.

"Let's see," he heard Blair mutter softly - knowing, of course, that Jim could hear every word - "what should I make for supper tonight? Pasta salad? Nah, we had spaghetti yesterday. Those leftovers _do_ look good, though." The exaggerated sound of a long strand of spaghetti being sucked slowly down Blair's throat. "Ah, great stuff, even cold. Makes me thirsty, though." The sound of a milk carton being opened, followed by several slow swallows and the satisfied smacking of lips.

Jim swallowed, too, and read the same headline again - for the third time.

"Damn!" a soft exclamation, as if not meant for anyone else's ears. "Spilled it. Guess I'll have to change my shirt." Cloth rubbing on cloth as Blair toweled off the wet material. Then other sounds - cloth against skin, fingers scratching slowly through hair...

Jim looked up in spite of himself. Blair stood at the end of the breakfast bar, shirtless, one hip cocked, idly scratching through the hair on his chest. When he saw Jim was looking, the curved fingers slowed, straightened, and skimmed down his chest and across his abdomen to hook in the waistband of his jeans. Jim dragged his eyes back to the paper he held, distantly noticing that his hands were shaking. He concentrated on taking deep breaths to calm himself.

"Sorry supper's taking so long." Blair's voice, unexpectedly close to his ear.

Jim jerked, ripping the newspaper in two. He looked up into a _very_ nearby expanse of naked skin, tight-curled chest hair, and peaked nipples.

"Hey, man," clearly mock concern, voice rich with suppressed laughter, "you okay? You look a little flushed."

Jim surged up out of the chair and grabbed Blair by the wrist, dragging his now openly laughing lover behind him into the nearby bedroom. "But what about supper, Jim? I was thinking of making stuffed peppers."

"I'll show you stuffed," Jim muttered, tossing Blair onto the bed and following him down, hands already busy at the fastenings of Blair's jeans.

"Hmmm..." voice sultry, a low hum that rumbled through Jim. "And here I thought _you_ were the anal retentive member of this partnership."

"Shut up, Chief," Jim growled, then proceeded to make sure his command went unheeded.


End file.
